The Black Kiss Of Death, page 7
part #1 of Montega Chronicles Series
When he slid into the passenger’s side, he admitted, “I gotta be straight up with you guys. I never tasted dark meat before.”
Fatso chuckled, “Well there’s a first time for everything, right?” he said as the car sped off.
Inside the range, Diamond and Mercedes got started without Bonnie. They couldn’t understand why she hadn’t called them. It was unlike Bonnie to miss her session. Something isn’t right, Diamond thought as she walked out of the building and saw Bonnie’s parked car. The trunk to the Jaguar was still open. She got on her cell phone and called her father.
“Hello?” Charles answered after the first ring.
“Daddy, I think something bad happened to Bonnie,” Diamond explained fretfully.
“What are you talking about, princess? Didn’t Bonnie meet you and your friend at the range?”
“Well, she was supposed to meet us, but she never showed. I’m standing in front of her car now. She left the trunk the wide open. There’s no sign of her anywhere.”
“Alright, listen to me, princess. I want you and your friend to get out of there, right now. Call me when you get to the house. I’ll find out what happened,” Charles assured her before hanging up.
After the phone call from his daughter, Charles put out a search for Bonnie. He didn’t know what was going on, but he had to be cautious. If this was a hit from the Russians, he didn’t want to be caught slippin’. Little did he know, rescuing Bonnie would be a failed mission.
Chapter 18
WAWA’S FOOD MARKET IN FLOUR TOWN, PA
(JUST A FEW MINUTES FROM PHILLY)
“Uh, Kenneth, can I speak with you in the back, please?” the Wawa manager said to 15-year-old Montega, who was standing behind the cash register, ringing up a customer.
After handing the customer his change and receipt, Montega followed the fat black woman to the back of the store, where he saw his book-bag on the desk, wide open, with five cartons of Newport 100 cigarettes inside. At that moment, he knew he was busted. He had been stealing cigarettes since the first day he was allowed in the storeroom. He would take them around the neighborhood and sell them to the hustlers on the corner for $25 a carton. Now, his run had come to an end, and there was nothing he could say or do about it.
“Does this bag belong to you?” the manager asked.
“Nizzaw,” Montega replied.
“C’mon, Kenny, I seen you come in with this bag today. Now, I’m not gonna call the cops and press charges which I should, but I am going to ask you to leave.”
Montega didn’t have to be told twice. Removing his apron, he headed for the exit, straight for the bus stop to wait on the number 96 that took him back to the city. Since he was 14, Montega had worked at five different jobs, from summer camp to fast food restaurants. Now, he had been fired again for trying to make some fast cash.
It was the only way to keep up with the guys in his high school who were looking fly and fucking all the bitches.
“What the fuck am I gonna do now?” he asked himself, as he watched the bus come to a stop in front of him.
Montega took in a deep breath of the night air as the long Septa bus pulled up to the stop directly in front of him. He stepped up and placed two dollars in the machine, along with some change, to get a pass for the next.
When he got it, he walked to the back, where he was surprised to see his best friend, Terrell, whom everyone called Razor, sitting by the window. Razor got the name for always carrying one under his tongue. He was dressed in his McDonalds uniform. “What the hell is you doin’ off work so early?” Montega said, surprising him as he sat next to him.
“Montega!” Razor exclaimed. “What the fuck are you doin’ off so early, nigga?”
“I got caught stealing cigarettes. They fired my ass,” Montega explained.
Razor shook his head. “Why am I not surprised? See, nigga, I told you that shit don’t last long.”
“Last long, my ass. You janked me. Now I’m out of a job. How the hell am I gonna get money?” Montega said, frustrated.
“Shit, you ain’t by yourself. I quit that job at McDonalds,” Razor told him. “They only gave me $75 this paycheck. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that? Buy a Lo shirt and a pair of socks? Man, we need to holla at Mike and get a pack, like your little brother, Taliban. The other day I seen that nigga pull out like a nickel in all fifties. That nigga only 14, and he got more money than my teacher.”
“Yeah, but I ain’t tryna mess with no drugs, though,” Montega confessed.
“Why not? Man, that’s where the money at. Can you imagine us getting money like that? We both already two of the thoroughbreds in our school, and we got a little team that can move out. If we had money, we could have all kinds a shit. You feel me?”
Montega thought about that the whole ride to Chestnut Hill loop.
Once they got onto another bus, he asked, “Who’s Mike?”
“You know Mike. He the stocky, brown-skinned bol around your brother and sister’s way who be at the Chinese store,” Razor explained.
“Oh, you talkin’ ‘bout the one who drive the Expedition?” Montega added.
“Yeah, that’s him. He get weight from the bol, Million Dollar Moe. He the one who supply the whole uptown. Blakemore Street is his strip, and so is all the other blocks around there. We can’t deal with Moe personally, but I know Mike will fuck with us,” Razor said.
That night Montega decided not to take the train to his mother’s house in North Philadelphia. Instead, he followed Razor to his old neighborhood, known as Summerville, where they spotted Mike’s Expedition parked in front of the playground.
The playground was probably topside Summerville’s capital. Only a block away from Kenny’s mom’s old crib, Lonnie Young was a big red and tan brick recreation center that stood strong on Chelten Avenue and Ardleigh Street. It was where the youth hung out, playing basketball, boxing, or just clowning around. Behind the recreation center was a playground for kids that was surrounded by two football fields, a basketball court and a swimming pool. All the hustlers played the courts at night, including their supplier.
“There he go, about to get in his truck,” Razor stated.
Montega sped up his steps in order to catch Mike before he pulled off. As Mike started the engine, Montega knocked on the window. Mike looked over at the two young bucks standing outside of his truck and unlocked the door for them to get in. Mike was only 20 years old, but he carried himself in the ‘hood like a real nigga. Like so many others, he had to wear his father’s pants in his absence and take care of business. Everyone respected Mike, but that wasn’t enough. He was in it to win it all.
“What’s up, lil niggas? What ch’all got, some cigarettes y’all tryna sell?” Mike asked as Montega climbed into the passenger’s seat while Razor got in the backseat.
“Nah, bol, I got fired today,” Montega explained.
“Damn, lil nigga, I --”
“Montega,” he corrected. “My name is Montega.”
Mike raised his eyebrows at the young’un, sitting across from him. “Okay, Montega. What’s up? What ch’all want from me?” he asked, amused.
“We need to make some money, dog. This job shit is for the birds,” Montega admitted.
Mike looked over at the frustrated young’un, “Look, I got ch’all niggas, but y’all owe me for this, and one day, I’m gonna come to collect it. I’m a start y’all off with a five bomb, which is a $500 pack, and see how y’all work. If y’all fuck up, then that’s it. I already got this nut-ass nigga Moe chargin’ me up the ass for bullshit coke. I don’t need to be gettin’ burnt by no young bol, too.” He went into his armrest and pulled out two clear plastic bags with stuffed caps of crack.
“I was gonna give these to Taliban and the others, but them niggas take too long to bring money back. These right here go for dimes. I want three hundred back off every five bomb you sell,” Mike explained, handing them the packs. “Get with me when y’all finish. Y’all got cell phones?”
They both shook their heads. “Damn, you ain’t got no cell phones? Alright, man, I’m a get ya some because y’all need it. If you niggas get caught up by the law, you don’t know me. Y’all both juveniles, so you bound to get back outta jail. I’ll see to that myself.”
“I don’t plan on getting caught,” Montega replied, tucking away the five bomb.
“Yeah, that’s what we all say, but mark my words, everybody gets caught slippin’ sometimes. Now, go ’head, I gotta go outta town for a few weeks, so when y’all ready, I’m a have my man Reek hit you with the re-up,” Mike said.
When the two got out of the truck, Mike pulled away.
“Damn, that was too easy,” Montega said.
“Yeah, I thought we’d have to wait a few days while he checked us out,” Razor replied.
The truth was that Mike had had his eyes on Montega and his homie Razor ever since he put his brother Taliban on. He liked how the two moved, and since Taliban was moving five bundles a day, he figured Montega and Razor would be millionaires in no time. He just hoped that their hearts were as big as their ambition to get money because there would come a time when they would be put to the ultimate test. In a game so slimy and a world so cold, they would have to learn a valuable lesson! Only the strong survive.
Chapter 19
NOTHING IS PROMISED
LA’s club scene pulsed with life. Loud engines roared as expensive vehicles demanded attention. The front of the club looked like Christmas lights with all the jewelry that was out on display. The lines were thick and the bouncers were hard at work.
Men and women hit Century City in some of the most expensive outfits money could buy. Not only were their clothes and jewelry attracting attention, but their cars also made bold statements. Clyde and his boys pulled up in back-to-back different-colored BMWs with chrome rims. When they stepped out, their Versace outfits and dazzling jewels stood out from others in the club.
JR and his partner, Calico, also looked like heavy hitters, with their iced-out chains and Rolexes. They were in the club, popping Crystal as if it was going out of style while they grooved off of 2pac and Snoop’s, Gangsta Party.
When Diamond pulled up at the valet stand in her father’s silver and black Lamborghini Diablo, accompanied by her best friend, Mercedes, all heads turned as the doors lifted and the two stepped out, dressed in bodysuits. Diamond’s was a black Gucci logo with high-heel knee boots to match, while Mercedes wore a red and green one.
The ballers in the club directed their eyes to these two sexy-ass underage females. No one would have guessed in a million years that Diamond was 16, going on 17. Her body was all grown up, and no woman in the club could match her, pound-for-pound.
When the girls walked up to the bouncer, they flashed their fake IDs that they had in their clutch bags and entered without the hassle of a search. The two strutted through the front entrance; envious eyes glared at them, wondering who they were.
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Diamond moaned as they scanned the club.
“Relax, you need this. Anything is better than being stuck in the house all night,” Mercedes replied as they made their way through the crowd, heading for the VIP section.
Truthfully, Diamond would rather be home. There was too much going on and it was too dangerous for her to be out and about by herself. Her father still hadn’t found Bonnie. And, no one knew what happened to her. This concerned Diamond. Bonnie was like an aunt to her. In fact, she was her mentor.
As the two females with eye candy figures strutted up the VIP steps, guys immediately tried to put their game down on the young tenders, but none were worthy. Diamond just didn’t want to be bothered. That was until JR and Calico approached their table. This time was different than the last.
Diamond was admiring the man standing in front of her. His smile was seductive, and his attire was impeccable. But, most important, she was attracted to his smile.
“Is this seat taken?” JR asked with a grin.
“Maybe, maybe not. It all depends on the person,” Diamond replied with a mutual smile.
Taking this as a green light, JR took a seat next to the sexy young lady as Calico eased himself down on the other side of Mercedes. JR soaked in her presence. She was gorgeous, stunning and irresistible.
As Diamond and JR introduced their friends, Clyde and Tommy wandered over. “Ain’t this a bitch? Can you believe this shit, Tommy? Do the bouncers know they got two underage girls in here?” Clyde chuckled.
“Damn, where they do that at?” Diamond said in disgust. “Don’t y’all two have some tricks to tend to? This coupe only holds one passenger, so I suggest you go find somebody else to ride,” Diamond replied.
“You hear this? She got jokes,” Clyde weakly responded as he looked at both Calico and JR. Not giving a fuck about what his sister did, Clyde tapped Tommy on the side. “C’mon, Tommy, any place is better than being here,” he said before stepping off.
JR looked at the two girls. “Y’all know them dicks?”
“Yeah, that’s my asshole brother and his friend. Please excuse them, they’re in a rush to stop breathing,” Diamond explained.
“Oh, so that’s your brother?” JR asked, looking over at Calico.
“Yes, it is, why? You scared or something?"
JR laughed. “Baby, you must not know me at all, but it’s cool. If you give me a chance, you’ll find out. You see, most women are attracted to me because of who I know or who I’m related to, but you, you somethin’ special. And I be damned if I’ll let you get away from me a second time,” he said, putting his hand over hers.
Diamond looked at his hand, then back into his eyes. Had it been anyone else she would have removed her hand immediately. For some reason, her body wasn’t functioning right.
“What’s your plans after the party?” he whispered in her ear.
His breath was minty fresh and his Creed cologne was killing her softly. Her mind was saying, “Go Home,” but her body was giving off a different signal. “I don’t know. Why? Do you have some other place in mind, besides your house?” she asked, already hip to his game.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” JR replied. “Oh, and I wasn’t tryna take you home. Not just yet, anyway. Like I said before, you special, and you should be treated that way. Can we go, or would you like to have a few drinks?”
“I can’t. I came with my girlfriend and she--”
“Oh, no, Diamond, go ahead. I’ll be fine. Cali here said that he’s gonna take me home. It’s cool,” Mercedes assured her, obviously with other intentions for the night.
Diamond studied her best friend for a second. She could easily detect a lie. Looking Mercedes in the eye, Diamond saw the Mercedes and her friend were up to no good. Mercedes might have been one of the most popular girls in high school, but she wasn’t a saint, or a virgin. Nor did she mess with any males her age. Diamond knew this but never spoke on it. Diamond felt that Mercedes was her own woman; and if she wanted to fuck somebody, Diamond had no say-so in the matter. When Mercedes and Calico rolled out, JR and Diamond did the same.
“Where’s your car?” JR asked as they walked out the front door together.
The valet pulled up in the $320,000 beauty and got out to let her in. JR was amazed by the foreign work of art parked before him. As much money as he made in the streets, he had never driven a Lambo before. Seeing the awe in his face, Diamond walked over to the passenger’s side. “I hope you can drive a stick.”
JR grinned from ear to ear. It was obvious that he wasn’t dealing with some naïve, young girl he could easily impress. Diamond was rare to the point that she could almost be intimidating. After a nice drive across the city, the two ended up parked in a spot that JR recently found on the hills that overlooked the whole city, providing a spectacular night time view of Los Angeles. Diamond took it all in.
“So, how long have you been coming up here?” she asked as they sat on the hood of the car.
“For a few months now. This is where I come when I want to focus on my next move and get away from all the bullshit,” he said, gazing at the crescent moon.
“You’re not really from LA, are you?” Diamond asked while studying his face.
‘How can you tell?” he asked.
“I don’t know. You just don’t fit the mold of the guys out here.”
JR chuckled. “You right, Ma. I was born in Camden, New Jersey. Where I come from, there are no places like Hollywood or Rodeo Drive. It’s more like Compton. My pops got locked up with a life sentence for murder, and my mom’s was a crackhead. So, basically, I had to go into foster care when I was young. I got moved all over the east coast until I found a stable home. They moved me to Los Angeles when I was 12. That’s when I realized that colors really meant something over here.”
“So, you’re in a gang?” Diamond asked.
“Not really. You see, my foster brother, Ronney, is a father to the Southside Crips. Me, I just get money and serve them work. I ain’t into all that gang bangin’ shit. And if a nigga ain’t on my page, I don’t even fuck with him. I think the two best things about coming to Cali was finding a connect to put me on my feet,” he said leaning back.
“What’s the second?” Diamond asked.
“Meeting you,” he replied as he looked at her.
“Me?”
“Yeah, Diamond, I meant what I said about you. You special, for real. I’ve been with a lot of girls since I’ve been down here, I ain’t gonna lie, both young and old, but none has the swag you have. Whoever raised you must have big plans for you. I don’t wanna get in the way of those plans; I just wanna be there to see you make it,” JR confessed.
Diamond blushed at the man beside her. She didn’t like the fact that someone else had plans for her in life, but didn’t speak on it. She decided not to ruin the moment. She could feel genuine respect coming from JR. He was nothing like the guys in high school, who just wanted to add her to their list of bitches they fucked or the dopeboys who just wanted her as a prized possession on their arm. He was unique. He was cut from a different cloth.
